Te Amo
by SunnyCait
Summary: "As far as I was concerned, I loved her. I loved everything about her, even the parts she didn't love about herself, the parts everyone else couldn't look past to even try and *like* her, let alone love her." Brittana! Rated M for a reason.


**A/N: My absolute first time writing something like this, and first time even flirting with the idea of Brittana. Hope it plays well! Reviews welcome! I was inspired by Rihanna's song "Te Amo" although it's definitely not the same premise as the song. If you haven't heard it, give it a listen. **

* * *

It was another typical Saturday night... Santana and I were at some nameless jock's house party and were completely trashed as per usual. When we were far enough gone, we'd made out, eagerly, publicly, with few inhibitions. Like every time, this earned us plenty of wolf whistles and hoots of male appreciation, as well as the sighs and teeth sucking of female envy. Maybe they weren't envious of the actual make out session, but of the attention a hot blonde and a smokin' Latina called to themselves whenever we pulled this party trick. None of the guys paid the other girls any attention while _we_ were there, and the two of us easily played it off as the reason we never passed up the opportunity to pull this stunt on any occassion there was enough booze flowing to where we could blame our lust-filled sessions on the alcohol.

Of course, we knew the real reason behind this trend. It was for the thrill. It was almost intoxicating as the beer to be so open with our passion, and yet we both knew no one would judge us or think of us as gay, just super, super hot. This was more of a plus for Santana, always the less secure one in our relationship. As far as I was concerned, I loved her. I loved everything about her, even the parts she didn't love about herself, the parts everyone else couldn't look past to even try and _like_ her, let alone _love_ her. She wasn't just a bitch to me. She was sweet, caring, attentive, and tender. Is it my problem she only chooses to show that side of herself to me? I considered myself extremely lucky to be a party to the softer, inner workings of Santana Lopez.

We were back at her place now, continuing what we'd started at the party earlier that evening but a lot more sober. Luckily her Mami wasn't home, and we were alone in her bedroom, sprawled leisurely side by side across her queen sized bed. As she kissed me slowly, hands roaming over my cotton tank top, I couldn't help but think about how truly lucky I was. Her touches were light and lingering, exactly how I liked it, and I never had to say a word of direction, she just knew exactly what to do. There was hardly any effort in being with Santana, whether that's from practice or it'd always been this way, I've long forgotten.  
I allowed myself to relax, kissing her back, mirroring her slow and deliberate pace. She got up onto her hands and knees, still delivering kisses as if they were precious cargo. Carefully she straddled me, hovering over me, and broke our grazing lips apart to lift her navy colored t-shirt over her head, tossing it carelessly into a corner. Smiling at me, she snaked her hands up my sides, gathering the fabric of my tank top as she slid it off of me expertly. She sent it off in the same direction of her own shirt.

The cooler air from the air conditioned room hitting my bare skin sent little chills through me, and I could feel the goosebumps rising, and see them on her skin as well. With a giggle and a wiggle I make the next move before she gets the chance, ridding myself of my capris as she simultaneously tugged her jeans off. These too hit the floor unceremoniously. And there she was, gorgeous and half naked, gazing down at me with a sultry smile upon her face. She sat back on her heels and drank in my image as I did the same to her. This would never get old, I thought happily.

Her dark eyes flashed with lust and desire when she was with me, quite the contrast between the venom and anger that was there normally. With her hair down in loose waves, she looked softer, more feminine than she did when it was held back in a tight ponytail. I swept my eyes down, noticing everything. The curve of her smile, her graceful neck, the way her silky red bra lifted her breasts to the perfect height to where they were threatening to tumble from their constraints... Her cute belly button which sat a little higher than normal... The slight impression of feminine cut abs... The little hollows to the side of each hip bone... I couldn't help but reach out and touch, raking my fingers carefully down her stomach, her skin smooth and flawless under my caress.

My hands stopped, fingers resting just above her panty line. Her smile widened and she leaned back on her hands, tilting her head back, dark hair tumbling over her back. She chuckled in anticipation, and I didn't make her wait. I pulled down the front of her panties and ran my thumb over her slowly before pressing into her slighty, resting the pad of my thumb on her clit. She moved her hips closer, causing me to apply more pressure. Again she chuckled, although this time there was a slight catch as it bubbled forth. I fanned the rest of my fingers out on stomach, using her body to brace my hand as I started to move my thumb in circles, picking up momentum quickly. Her hips circled my hand, making it harder for me to stay in a rythym, and I had to use my other to steady her and keep her from moving around so much. She seemed to enjoy that, and allowed me to continue on without interrupting me again. Every now and then she let out a little squeal letting me know it was too much, and I'd slide my thumb down into the wetness and tease her entrance, not giving her the satisfaction of being filled with my fingers quite yet.

"_Te amo_," Santana whispered, eyes closed. Her soft words were followed by a inadvertant moan and she bit her lower lip. I could tell she was having trouble containing herself, and it made me laugh. Santana shot me the same look she always did when we were doing stuff and I laughed, one that was probably meant to stop me, but it never worked. She was just ridiculous, trying to be so strong when we both knew all she wanted to do was cry out in ecstasy. It would come later, I knew. However before I could bring her closer to the edge, she sat up straight and brushed my hand away lightly. "Your turn," she said simply, giving me a devilish grin as she scooted off of me and started to peel my admittedly wet panties off.

I helped her by kicking them off the rest of the way after she'd gotten them down around my ankles. She lightly placed a hand on each of my knees and parted my legs, settling between them, fitting there like that was where she was _made_ to be. I lay splayed, waiting, my breath coming in quicker and quicker bursts. She lowered her head close enough to where I could feel the heat of her light pants against my inner thighs, and looked up at me over the rise of my chest, smirking. She knew how I ached for her to begin, how I was waiting. It was no secret that she liked to be in control, and this was her specialty.

"San..." I whined, squirming slightly. She took her cue, and lavished me generously with her tongue. She paid special attention to the area just above and to the side of my clit, where she knew I was most sensitive, knowledge gained from many trips down south. I drew my knees up slightly, using the leverage of my feet against the bed to buck gently against her mouth. I felt her giggle against me, which drove me insane. "San," I said again, this time a little more urgently. Understanding my need, she brought a hand under her chin and snuck two fingers into me, angling them perfectly. Her tongue worked my hot spot while she pumped in and out of me, not starting slow at all but going full speed ahead. Now it was my turn to make satisfied noises, but unlike Santana, I never held back. She loved it, loved hearing what she was doing to me, so I indulged her eagerly, as if I really had a choice in the matter.

"_Te amo_," she said again, parting from her work only long enough to utter the simple phrase. I had no idea what it meant, but she'd never said it before tonight. Frankly I wasn't too worried with what she was _saying_ at that moment in time.

In the same fashion as she had earlier, I stopped her before I could finish. This time though, we wouldn't be taking turns. I pulled her down and shucked her undies off of her, and we each undid our own bras. Ah, yes, my friends! I smiled gleefully at them, happy they were free of that satiny prison at last. Santana and I lie side by side again. In unison we each moved our hands down to the other's middle, her arms threading between mine. Wordlessly, we each went for it, slipping fingers into each other, sliding and slipping in the dampness at our cores. It took us a few seconds to sync up into a steady pace each of us was comfortable with, but once we had, it stuck.

I reached for her and captured her mouth with mine, just in time for her to moan against my lips. I kissed her, gently, sweetly, and more carefully than we had when we'd been at that party. Parties were crazy and loud, and here together, alone, we weren't that at all. We were tranquil and steady, not focused on anything else but each other, no jeers from voyeuristic guys to distract us. I felt her body tense against my fingers, just as mine did the same to her. Perfectly synchronized, we finished together, one last twist of fingers before we simultaneously pulled out, satisfied.

"_Te amo_," Santana murmered breathlessly as she rolls onto her back, the last tremors of release shuddering through her body the same as they were for me. I'm pleased because we managed to coincide so nicely, and the relaxed feeling that accompanies a good roll in the hay washes over me like warm sunshine. Smiling, I curl into her, happily snuggling against her side with my eyes closed. She drapes an arm around me, and we both ignore the fact that we're sticky with sweat.

"Goodnight, Santana!" I try to chirp, but my voice is too husky and it comes out oddly. Santana doesn't seem to notice, and her lips brush against my forehead.

And then she said "_Te amo_", moving her arm lower, wrapping it around my waist. In my after sex haze she still wasn't making sense. Was that Spanish or something?_ I wish someone would tell me what she said. _I thought back over my two semesters of Spanish class. _Doesn't it mean I love you? I think it means I love you. _And with that as my last thought, a drifted off to a blissful sleep, a smile on my face.


End file.
